It's Paris, Darling
by LucindaRemyMalfoy
Summary: Paris, a smokey jazz club, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, and a whole lot of sexual attraction. Sounds crazy? Of course not, because it's Paris, Darling. Rated M for adult content.


**I was listening to _Ces Bottes Sont Faites Pour Marcher_ by Emilie-Claire Barlow and _Sous Le Ciel De Paris_ by Duo Gadjo for the majority of this piece. I think they set the jazz club vibe really well - plus they're awesome songs, even if you can't understand what they're saying (:**

**Oh, and weirdly enough I didn't write this in past tense. Which was a first. And definitely harder than I thought, so excuse if there are any tense changes. I tried to catch all of them, but you know how it goes...**

**Enjoy.**

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"What makes you think I came here because of you?"

A pair of silver eyes twinkle at her from over the rim of a whiskey glass for a moment before he graces her with an answer.

"It _is _my bar."

She tosses her curly mane of chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, ignoring his words entirely. She's certain she's not here for him.

"And I'm supposed to be keeping track of your whereabouts?"

The smokey atmosphere of the old-style French jazz club suits them perfectly - his black suit and sharp angles and her red lips and intricately fashioned up-do make them both look like they were plucked right out of the era.

"Wouldn't surprise me in the slightest, Granger." he says, setting his glass down on the bar so she can really see his smirk now.

She's not amused.

"I'm in Paris for vacation. How was I supposed to know such a _nice _and _respectable _place would be owned by Draco Malfoy? Seems rather unlikely to me."

Her words don't phase him. He's heard plenty worse, some even from the brunette witch herself.

There were few nights they spent together that didn't result in fiery words flying from her pouty red lips, though it wasn't long before he silenced all those words and reduced her to something equivalent to the grey matter floating around in her brain - nothing but goo.

He focuses back on her, because she's saying something now, and he knows he's got to be on his A game if he wants to beat her at their verbal sparring match.

"It's been all over the papers, and I know you read them." he says smoothly, taking another sip of his whiskey.

She eats the olive from her Martini and finishes off the drink before looking over to him.

"How funny, for you to assume that you know anything about what I choose to occupy my time with."

Her words don't lessen his smirk, if anything it widens.

"I'm well aware of at least _one _thing you choose to occupy your time with, and it's certainly not the books you had your nose in for years."

She tries to act indignant as a blush blooms across her cheeks, but she fails - and she knows it.

There's only so much of this she can take, really.

"Well he seems to fancy chatting in a bar above all else."

"Oh," he says, that devilish sparkle she's come to know so well in his eyes as he leans in closer to her, "Make no mistake, there are _plenty _of things I'd rather be doing."

Her heart skips a beat - it usually does when he's this close. Not that she'll ever admit it to him.

"You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"Well I'm sure I can find a way to correct that." he says, standing up to offer her his hand.

She smirks, placing her hand in his and rises from her seat, enjoying his wide eyed stare at her outfit.

It would have been over the top in anyone else's club, but Draco was one for extravagancies, so her long, red, silk dress with a slit up the side to her thigh matched just _perfectly_.

"You look fucking stunning." he murmurs against her ear, smirking as he hears her breath hitch. "Though I'm sure you'll look just as amazing with that dress on the floor of my flat."

She loves it when he teases her like this - and he knows it.

"Are we leaving?" she asks, taking a step closer to him - and even though she has on stilettos she's still not quite as tall as him.

"Indeed." he says, his words a brush against her lips, before leading her out of the sultry atmosphere of his club.

He apparates them to his flat - she's never been here before.

"I was wondering when I'd see you again." he drawls, moving into the kitchen to pour her and himself a glass of wine.

She's sure it's something fancy and French and completely impossible for her to pronounce, so she doesn't ask as he hands her the wine glass with a smirk.

"You're the one who left, Malfoy. You can't have honestly expected that I'd come looking for you." she replies haughtily, taking a sip of her drink and pointedly ignoring the flash of hurt that flits across his face.

It's gone as quickly as it appears, though, and his silver eyes appraise her cooly.

"Found someone new to shag, love?" he asks, the term of endearment falls from his lips more like a slap in the face than anything else.

Before she realizes what she's doing, she slaps him. Hard.

And the wine glass is shattered on the hardwood floor.

And it's very, very silent in his flat.

He doesn't know why, but riling her up just _gets him_, so before she can no doubt start spouting off a long list of reasons why he's a right foul git, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her.

It's a hard and demanding kiss, and his fingers tangle themselves into the hair at the nape of her neck while his thumbs rest on her cheeks.

She's caught off guard, but only momentarily.

She remembers this with him.

This is what they are.

All pent of passion and aggression and snide comments and sarcastic remarks leading to - well _this_.

She kisses him back, her hands finding his waist, digging into the soft fabric of his white dress shirt.

He pushes her back against the nearest wall, one hand leaving her hair to wander down to her exposed thigh. Her skin is soft under his touch and he digs his fingers in, enjoying the soft moan that accompanies the movement.

He knows she's not a porcelain doll.

He knows she's not going to break from a little...rough handling.

That's part of what she likes about him.

He _isn't _always careful.

He pulls his lips away from hers to trail softer kisses down the smooth column of her neck, before biting at the sensitive skin in _just _the right place, earning him a breathy moan.

"I fucking love hearing you moan for me, Granger." he murmurs, his breath cool against her ear, "I love knowing that it's only me who can play your body like this."

She doesn't argue.

"I know." she whispers back, her hands desperately trying to unbutton his shirt.

He smirks at her eagerness, but doesn't comment on it. Instead he slides the hand that's not currently glued to her thigh up to tease her breasts through the thin fabric of the silk dress.

She bites back the moan in her throat and manages to successfully unbutton his shirt, groaning in annoyance at him to remove it completely.

He's less than pleased at having to remove his hands from her body, but complies, and no sooner is the shirt on the floor than his hands are right back to where they were before.

Driving her insane.

He moves his hand around to her back, slowly sliding the zipper down while claiming her lips in another heated kiss.

The dress glides down her body, pooling on the ground at her feet, and she's left in nothing but a pair of lacy green panties.

His eyes darken at the sight, and he can't help but ask, "Are you sure you weren't at the club for me?"

She refuses to acknowledge that he's spoken, instead taking his face in her hands and kissing him soundly.

When she pulls away he takes a step back, taking a minute to appreciate how amazing she looks.

Just before he knows she's going to get uncomfortable with his staring, he takes her hand and tugs her to him again, claiming her lips in a softer kiss this time.

She removes his belt while his hands roam over her soft skin, sometimes to pinch her nipples, sometimes to gently squeeze her bum.

She manages to push his trousers from his hips, leaving him clad in noting but a pair of boxer briefs.

He trails a few kisses down her neck and across her shoulder, meanwhile she runs her hands up his toned chest, remembering his body just as he remembers hers.

It hasn't really been that long.

He presses another kiss to her lips before saying, "Bed."

That one word causes her stomach to clench deliciously, because she knows exactly what he's capable of.

She lets him lead her into his bedroom - and she's not surprised by its decorations. It's not much different from the bedroom at his old flat.

Same green silk sheets.

He gently nudges her onto the bed, and settles onto it next to her, capturing her lips in another kiss while he lets the hand that isn't supporting him on his side tease her breasts for a moment, before sliding down to finger the hem of her lacy knickers.

Her hands tangle in his hair, and with a tug she indicates that she wants him to continue.

So he does.

He slides his fingers into her panties and finds her hot and wet already.

"Fuck," he murmurs, nipping at her bottom lip, "I always forget how responsive you are."

She opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off abruptly as he begins circling her clit with his fingers. Without warning her slides first one, then two of his long, slender fingers inside her.

She's unable to stifle her moan, and it slips past her lips, making Draco smirk in satisfaction.

He loves knowing exactly how much he affects her - because Merlin knows she affects him.

"Let me hear you, Granger." he says as he curves his fingers to stroke that special spot that has her moving her hips against his hand.

Her breathing comes in small pants as she dangerously approaches her orgasm - which Draco notices, _of course_.

"Come on," he murmurs hotly against her ear, "Let me feel this pretty little pussy coming around my fingers."

His words send her over the edge - as they never fail to do - and before she can register what's happening, he slowly pulls her panties from her legs and tosses them behind him off the bed.

With a smirk fit for the Slytherin Prince, he settles himself between her legs.

"Malfoy, no. Not again, I -"

"Again? No, no, I assure you I haven't done this yet." he says, that smirk still firmly on his face.

He glances between her legs before meeting her eyes again and says, "I have every intention of making you come _at least_ two more times tonight."

His words spark a fire in her stomach and she cautiously asks, "Why?"

Instead of answering her, he just moves his face between her thighs, slowly licking up her slit.

She moans softly at the light touch, but those soft moans quickly turn to _loud _moans.

His tongue expertly slides over her folds, flicks against her already sensitive clit, before plunging into her tight cavern - and then repeats the process all over again.

Her hands tangle into his hair, and she's so close and mumbling incoherent things - all the while trying to push him away because it's just _too much_.

But he's not having any of it. He slides his arms around her thighs, locking her in place, and continues his onslaught. She's coming undone in a matter of moments, moaning and arching her back and -

Well Draco loves every second of it.

He slowly kisses his way back up to her lips, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders while she catches her breath.

"You have a downright wicked mouth, Malfoy." she murmurs, pulling him in for a kiss.

He smirks against her mouth before saying, "Ah, only for you."

His tone is laced with humor, but they both know that there's a hint of honesty to his words.

Before he can deliver more sweet torture, she nudges his shoulder, pushing him so that he's on his back and she's sitting beside him.

"I think it's my turn." she says, slowly trailing her hand down the flat, toned expanse of his stomach, lightly flitting over the soft dusting of blonde hair, and just barely skimming her fingers over his throbbing erection.

He bites the inside of his cheek to avoid doing anything - she's barely touched him, and he refuses to act like a teenage boy - though that's _exactly _how she makes him feel.

In the best possible way.

She shifts onto all fours, pressing soft kisses down his chest and stomach, before pressing another kiss to his swollen member.

He can't contain the slight groan this time, and she smirks, pleased that she can affect him like he affects her - though of course they both know this by now.

She grips him in her small hand, slowly pumping up and down before building up speed. She enjoys his soft groans, and when she takes him into her mouth he curses, his hand going to her hair.

"Fucking hell." he groans again, his hips rising off the bed in time with her movements.

A few moments later he tugs her up, his eyes a molten silver as he flips them over so he's on top again.

"You're going to be the death of me." he says between breathless kisses.

"Seems like a great way to go." she says back.

He doesn't argue. It's true.

He lowers himself between her legs, and slowly slides inside her.

She's so blissfully tight - she's _always _so blissfully tight.

"Oh my...Malfoy." she gasps, overwhelmed by how perfectly he's stretching her.

"I know." he says, lowering himself onto his forearms before capturing her lips in a kiss.

He sets a steady rhythm, first pulling all the way out of her, before pushing all the way back in - not _that _hard, but hard enough to hit that spot that has her moaning with every stroke.

Her hands wander over his back, into the silky blonde hair at the nape of his neck - meanwhile his lips roam over her neck, shoulders, and breasts slowly and deliberately - just like his thrusts.

Not long thereafter she feels that delicious pressure building in her stomach for the third time tonight, the tight coil about to snap, and _of course _he knows it too.

He slides a hand between them and strokes her clit three times before he feels her clamping around him, her back arching so that her chest is pressed against his and he can feel her nipples against his skin.

He doesn't slow his thrusts, just continues on through her orgasm, drawing it out as much as he can.

When she comes down from her high, she realizes that he has yet to come, and her eyes widen as he pulls out of her.

Position changes usually meant that she was going to be completely drained by the time they were done.

He tugs her up and positions her so that she's on all fours in front of him.

He knows she loves this position, and he definitely isn't complaining about it either.

He trails a hand over her back, moving down to give her ass a light swat, earning him a groan from her - which goes straight to his dick.

Slowly he pushes himself back inside her, his hands on her hips as he thrusts in and out of her.

It's deep this way and she loves it, unable to contain her moans at how perfectly he's stretching her.

"Bloody hell, you feel so fucking good." he groans, leaning over so his chest is pressed against her back. He presses a few kisses to her shoulder before moving one hand to stroke her clit.

"Oh shit." she gasps, "Malfoy, please."

She doesn't know what she's asking for, but he does.

_Of course _he does.

He pulls her back onto his lap, one hand sliding up her stomach to play with her breasts, while the other returns to her clit. She allows her head to loll back onto his shoulder, and she completely gives over to all the feelings he's forcing upon her. Her moans wanton and her body moving against his in perfect synchronicity.

She turns her head to kiss him, but he's playing her body so perfectly that she finds it impossible, and instead he presses kisses against her shoulders and neck.

He starts to feel her beginning to spasm, and he can't help the moan that falls from his lips.

"Fuck, _fuck_." he murmurs, his thrusts faster, "Fucking hell, Hermione."

He's well aware that she loves it when he calls her by her first name in bed, and as soon as she hears it fall from his lips in his gravelly voice she falls apart around him.

She moans his given name, and he manages to continue thrusting into her until her spasms have subsided. He stifles his groan against her shoulder, his body shuddering as he falls over the edge.

His hands lazily trail her body for a moment as they try to catch their breath, and she doesn't mind. She likes when he touches her like this, after all the tension is gone. It means more.

She turns her head slightly to look at him, and before she can look away he uses his hand to nudge her face so he can kiss her.

After a few moments she's pulls away from him, but only far enough to lay down on the bed. He joins her, his eyes trailing over her slightly sweat-slicked skin and he knows he's lucky that she even spends her time on him.

"You never answered my question." she says softly, her toffee eyes meeting his.

"What question?"

"Why you had a goal for how many times you wanted me to..." she trails off, waving her hand in the air.

He sighs, a hand running through his hair as he lays on his back contemplating his answer.

"I...damn it, Granger." he says, frustrated, "I want you to need me -"

She opens her mouth to say something, but he doesn't give her the opportunity.

"I want you to need me how I need you. I want you to know that I'm the only person who can fuck you like that - and not just because I'm good, but because I fucking _care_."

Her eyes widen in surprise, "What?"

"Bloody hell, bint." he says with a slight smirk, "I like fucking you, Granger. _But_," he says, when he notices her about to interrupt him, "I also like _you_. Sex or not."

She can't help but smile, "Does this mean I'm not going to leave before you wake up this time?"

His silver eyes sparkle as he smirks and says, "You could, but I'd really rather you didn't."

She doesn't respond, instead she leans forward to press her lips to his in a kiss.

And he doesn't need her to tell him exactly what she means, because he knows - _of course _he does.

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**Leave me a review and let me know what you thought? That'd be awesome (:**


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